Bedtime Stories
by SammysAngel
Summary: Past fic Dean and Sam reflect on their childhood and teen years, tying into the series...Eventually. Sorry I know I suck at summaries, but its more interesting than it sounds, so give it a try! Please RR, and no bashing! COMPLETE!
1. 1987 The Innocence

**Chapter One: Midnight Memories**

_1987_

**Disclaimer: The WB owns Supernatural, not me, etc.**

An 8-year-old Dean awoke to the soft sound of sobbing which, Dean discovered as he rolled over to check it out, was coming from a small figure underneath the covers in the bed next to his. Dean groaned as he got out of bed and walked the five or so feet to the other bed.

_An older brother's work is never done_ he thought to himself.

"Hey, Sam. Sammy?" he tried to pry the covers off his baby brother, but Sam held them over himself tightly.

_Jeez, he's strong, _Dean thought as he gave one final yank and successfully pulled the comforter off to reveal a red eyed, tear streaked four-year-old face.

"Another nightmare?" Dean asked.

"Yeah. It was real bad," Sam said, wiping the tears off his face, trying to sound strong in front of his older brother.

"You want to tell me what it was about?"

"It was about Mom. I saw her, Dean, and she was on fire! And…she was on the ceiling, and there was blood. I don't remember that night, Dean, how come I'm dreaming about it? And why would Mom be on the ceiling if it was just an electrical fire?"

Dean was taken aback by this, expecting a nightmare more along the lines of an evil clown or something under his bed, knowing full well his brother didn't know about the real dangers out there. But what he was taken even more aback by was how would Sam know Mom was on the ceiling? Only Dad knew that, until he told me, that is. But Dean was determined to keep the tough older brother face on for Sam.

"It was just a nightmare, Sammy. Mom died in an electrical fire, she wasn't on the ceiling or anything, I promise."

This calmed Sam down immediately, pushing any thoughts out of his mind that his nightmare was real. Because if Dean said that Mom died in an electrical fire, there was no doubt in Sam's mind that that was how she had died.

"Hey Dean? Can you tell me about Mom?"

Dean immediately felt less tense, knowing that he had taken Sam's mind off his nightmare. Dean pushed his little brother to the right side of his bed as he sat down on the left side.

"She was great. She would always have breakfast for me when I came down from bed, everything you could imagine, bacon, eggs, pancakes, waffles- sometimes she'd even sneak me one of her extra-special chocolate milkshakes. She had a secret recipe for them or something, she'd never tell anyone what it was. And she was always smiling, I remember that. Smiling and laughing…Sometimes if I was just laying in bed in the morning, and she thought Dad and I were asleep, I'd hear her singing to the radio," Dean paused for a moment, suddenly getting a feeling of emptiness as he remembered her.

"Go on, Dean. Tell me more," Sam urged him on.

"Well, I don't remember a whole lot. I do remember, though that whenever I got scared or had nightmares, she'd be there to calm me down," Dean looked over at his baby brother, and immediately felt awful for having said this. "I'm so sorry, Sammy. I'm sorry that you never knew her."

Sam sat in silence for a moment, until he finally spoke, "That's okay. At least you can tell me all about her."

This, was too much, even for Dean. As if remembering his Mom weren't enough, he had to deal with the guilt of Sam not even _having _memories of their mom, all in one night. Dean felt tears coming to his eyes and quickly got out of Sam's bed, not wanting to let Sam know that he had shown any vulnerability.

"Now go to sleep, jerk," Dean grinned, putting his tough-guy face back on.

"Okay, stupid," Sam smiled, plopping his head down onto his pillow.

Eighteen years later, a 26-year-old Dean smiled at this memory. He glanced down at the now grown up Sammy, asleep in the passenger seat of the Impala, jerking every few minutes at a new nightmare plaguing him.

"I'm sorry, Sammy. I'm so sorry," Dean spoke quietly to himself, feeling a tear roll down his cheek as he sped up the car, going to their next destination.

**Author's Note: I made this story at a time where Sam doesn't know about the paranormal (but Dean does) and he is still under the belief that their mom died in an electrical fire. I know that he probably knew at this point in his life, but, hey, this is my story. Oh, and also I know Sam's dialogue is not how a four-year-old really talks (or, well my three younger brothers didn't; but I wouldn't say they're good representation) but Sam is supposed to be really smart, so I just came up with this. (NOTE FOR AFTER STORY: For anyone who didn't notice, the "Go to bed, jerk" "Okay, stupid" was my tribute to the actual chick-flick moment line in the pilot of "Okay, jerk" "Bitch" except coming from an eight and four year old this time)**


	2. 1990 The Tainting of the Innocence

**Disclaimer: Do I own _Supernatural_? HAHAHAHA! OBVIOUSLY NOT! (sorry I'm really tired, and full from Thanksgiving dinner. Btw, happy Thanksgiving everyone!)**

**Chapter 2: The Other Side of the Spectrum**

_**1990**_

"Sammy, come here, I want to talk to you a minute." John Winchester wiped his sweaty brow in frustration as he heard the patter of a seven-year-old's footsteps coming down the stairs. John had, to Sam's dismay, told him to stay home from school that day. He needed to explain to him what really happened, as much as he wanted Sam to keep the innocence he possessed. He had a right to know.

"Hey, Sammy, sit down," he said as his son entered the room, "So…I heard from Dean that you said there was something in your closet."

"Yeah, Dad. I kept hearing scratching in there, but I'm sure its nothing," Sam said, trying to mask the fear he really felt. _Stop being a baby, of course there's nothing in your closet, _Sam thought to himself.

"Well, Sammy, if there really is something in your closet, you're going to need this," John told him as he took out of his robe a .45 pistol, placing it on the table.

Sam's eyes widened to the size of saucers, "But, but, Dad- that's a _gun!_"

"I know, Sammy. Look, there _is _something in you need to know. Well, there's a lot. It's going to take awhile to explain, but I just need you to have that- I don't want anything getting you."

"Dad, I'm sure there's nothing in my closet...Please, stop, you're really scaring me-"

"Look, Sam, you know the fire that killed your mother? It wasn't an electrical fire," John didn't mean to sound so abrupt about it, but it had just slipped out. He didn't seem to realize how much of an effect those two sentences had had on his youngest son though.

"What do you mean? Of course it was," Sam argued, but in the back of his mind all the awful nightmares he had had about that night came flooding back to him, and Dean's words from so long ago- _"It was just a nightmare, Sammy. Mom died in an electrical fire, she wasn't on the ceiling or anything, I promise." _Why would Dad lie to him all this time? Why would _Dean _lie to him all this time? _No, Dean would never lie to me. Either Dad is lying or Dean didn't know or something…_Sam tried to convince himself, but he couldn't get rid of the sick, empty feeling in his stomach.

"Son, it was some kind of evil supernatural being. Dean and I have been hunting it for a couple of years-"

Sam stopped him right there, "You're lying, if Dean had known he would've told me." _Or I hope he would've._

"I specifically told your brother _not _to tell you, Sam. I hardly wanted to tell you, but it's for your own good. Now you can protect yourself, and come hunting with Dean and I."

This was all too much for Sam to process in such a short amount of time. He quickly got up and ran for the door, ignoring his father's cries as he went. He needed air, he just needed to get out.

Sam closed the door behind him, and sat on the steps, breathing a sigh of relief as he noticed his father had left him alone- for the time being. But his relief was not for long as he saw a big yellow school bus drive up their road, and stop at their driveway.

Soon, an 11-year-old boy with green eyes, short brown hair, and a worn out leather jacket stepped off the bus and walked up the driveway, a look of frustration crossing his face as he walked over to his little brother.

"Why the hell'd you get to get a day off of school? Anyways, I thought you loved school! But that could be 'cause you're only in elementary, wait 'til you get to junior high!" he rambled on, any jealousy of not getting a day off of school completely fading.

Sam just stared at him, he had never been so angry with his older brother in his entire life.

"What's eating you?" Dean asked once he noticed his brother was upset.

"I hate you," Sam said through gritted teeth, and proceeded to go inside, slamming the door in his confused brother's face.

After the initial shock had left him, Dean went inside and immediately confronted his father.

"What's up with Sam?" he asked.

"I told him. I told him everything," John answered, not able to meet his eldest son's eyes, but staring at the .45 pistol left on the table.

"Are you kidding me! Why the hell would you do that!" Dean shouted, his confusion immediately turning into pure anger.

"Hey! Don't use that language!" John shouted back, not sure exactly what else he _could _say.

"Dad, he's only _seven_!"

"_You _were only _four_, Dean!"

"Yeah, but I was there! It was inevitable that _I _would know about everything! Sam could've gone his whole life without even having to know!"

"Dean, look. He wouldn't have been able to go on without knowing this, I have a feeling that- Look, that isn't important right now. Dean, him not knowing would only have been more dangerous for him, it's better that he knows," John finished.

"Yeah, but, Dad-"

"There's nothing more to discuss, Dean. This conversation is over," John told him with exasperation. He was tired, he couldn't deal with both of his boys hating him right now.

Dean was far from calming down, but knew that his father meant business. He didn't want to get in more trouble than he was probably going to be in soon once his father found out he was near failing a lot of his classes, and not because he was bad in school but just didn't care. Besides, the only reason his Dad even cared about education was it could probably _help _with hunting.

Dean stomped upstairs, wanting to make sure that his Dad knew that, though he had let the argument go for now, he was still pissed off.

Dean made his way to Sam's room, ready to try to apologize, but stopped outside when he heard sobbing coming from inside. Immediately feeling worse than he had before, he silently headed over to his own room, and lay down on his bed, promising himself he would just solve things later.

In the present day, Dean thought back on this guiltily. He hadn't been able to make his brother forgive him. For a long time. That had been a hard couple of months, watching his once innocent baby brother evolve into a warrior- like he, Dean, had had to do as well.

For seven years, Dean had tried to hide Sam from his and Dad's 'extracurricular' hunting life, but in one day all his work had been ruined, and Sam had never really forgiven him completely for lying to him all that time.

And now, it was as if history was repeating itself. Sam had tried the normal life again, and Dean had let him. And in one day, that had all been ruined for Sam. Again. Dean wished more than anything that it could be different, but deep down he knew that Sam was a Winchester. As much as he tried, and as much as Dean tried to help, he would never be able to escape what he truly was. A hunter.


	3. 1995 The First Kill

**Chapter 3: The First Kill**

_1995_

_**Disclaimer: You know the drill, I don't own Supernatural. Oh, and the "happy meals with legs" line is a similar one to a line Spike said to Buffy in the show Buffy the Vampire Slayer. I didn't even notice I had used it until I reread, and remembered that it was actually from Buffy, so just thought I'd give the amazing writers from Buffy credit for another great quote of theirs!**_

"Dean, watch your brother, I'm just going to get some more silver for tonight," John Winchester told his eldest son.

"Yeah, Dad," A 15-year-old Dean answered, not really paying attention, though, as he stared at the television screen. The door shutting behind his father awoke Dean from his television daze, and he turned his attention to his 12-year-old brother, sitting on the bed to their current motel room, reading a book titled "Werewolves: Fact or Fiction?"

"Sammy, why are you reading that crap? That author probably has no idea about anything supernatural, they just wanted to make a buck or two. Anything you find in that book will be worthless against a real werewolf," Dean explained to his brother in frustration. His brother was such a freaking' nerd….

"Yeah, well I don't have the hunter's instinct you and Dad have. I depend on knowledge, whether the author is telling the truth or not. I'm just going to have to take that risk," Sam said, not looking up from the book.

"What's there to learn? We shoot the bastard in the heart with a silver bullet, and that sucker's history," Dean told Sam, turning back to the TV screen.

Sam finally looked up from his book at this last comment, and just stared at his brother. He finally spoke, "Dean, you do understand that this werewolf we're after is actually a _human_ right? I mean, how can you just say we're going to kill it?"

Dean groaned loudly as he turned off the TV and faced his brother, "Jesus, Sam, this thing's killed five people in the past week, and it only had three freaking full moons to do that! It may have the physical appearance of a human at times, but inside, it's the wolf, 24/7!"

"How can you say that? Do you think the person _wanted_ to get bit! The poor guy was probably just strolling along on the night of a full moon, and was attacked by it, and next thing he knew he was a werewolf every full moon from then on! Look, all I know is if there's anyway we can stop it from killing people without actually having to kill it for good, I'm going to find a way," Sam finished, again going back to his book, but with much more concentration and anger in his eyes.

Dean didn't say anything back, just turned the TV back on and watched until he heard his Dad coming into the room, asking Dean and Sam to help him melt the silver into bullets-, which Sam immediately declined, much to his father's anger.

Later that night, the three Winchester's drove towards the woods a few miles from their motel room, guns loaded with silver bullets ready in the trunk of the car.

"Dad, look, there's got to be another way that we can stop this thing, I mean- Dad, please listen to me!" Sam pleaded with his Dad yet again, having failed all of his attempts back in the motel room.

"It's killed five, people, Sammy! And it'll kill a hell of a lot more if we don't stop it now! We can't let that risk lie, Sam, and there's no other way to get rid of it," John told his youngest, hoping to end any more pleading from him.

"But, Dad, that's not true! If we can kill the werewolf that bit this one, it'll break the curse, and-"

"And how are we going to find the werewolf that killed him, Sam? That'll take a long time, time we don't have. A lot more people will die!" Dean exclaimed. At the look of hurt on his brother's face, Dean calmed down and said more quietly, "Look, it's a good idea and all, but it's just not going to work, Sammy." And with that Dean turned to follow his father into the woods, gesturing for Sam to get a move on.

About an hour later, Sam looked into the sky to see that the moon had fully risen into a cloudless sky, and a visibly full moon shone brightly. "Dammit…" Sam whispered to himself, frustrated with the limited amount of time left before he knew the inevitable would happen. Sam was awakened from his thoughts by his father's hand on his shoulder, and looked to see his Dad was holding out a small gun for him to take.

"Look, Sammy, it'll be easier to find this thing if we split up; you go with your brother to go look- But you need to take this," he explained, putting the gun into Sam's hand as he continued, "I'm giving this to you because, if this thing attacks you or your brother, you're going to have to use it, Sam. Do you understand?"

"Yeah," Sam said to his father, not letting the skepticism show.

"Good. Okay, Dean, if you guys don't find this thing in the next couple of hours, I'll meet you up at the car, understand?"

"Yeah, Dad," Dean answered, then turned to Sam, "Come on, Sammy, let's go."

After about an hour and a half of searching for the werewolf, Sam and Dean had had no luck, and Sam was slowly getting a bit relieved that they may not have to kill the werewolf anymore.

"Jesus, where is the freaking thing!" Dean exclaimed kicking at the ground in frustration.

"Well, we're being pretty loud, maybe it got scared off," Sam told him with false hope.

"It was a rhetorical question," Dean answered, having not actually expected an answer, "Plus, if it did hear us, it would've attacked us, not run away. Werewolves aren't like most animals, they're not scared of humans, and they think of us as Happy Meals with legs."

"For the last time, it _is _a human being, Dean! And it probably-" But Sam was cut off by rustling in the trees up ahead. Dean's hunter senses immediately kicked in, and within seconds he had his gun aimed and ready for anything.

Sam froze to the spot, any relief he previously had gone, and replaced by fear and anticipation. _What if he had to kill the werewolf? _Sam didn't think he could do it, he couldn't bear it.

"Sam! Get your gun ready!" Dean shouted at him.

Sam took out the silver-bullet loaded gun, and got it ready, his hands shaking the whole time. But before he even knew what had hit him, the werewolf jumped out of the darkness, swiping Sam's arms with its claws. Sam clutched his arm in pain, but didn't have much time to think about it as the werewolf went for Dean next, knocking Dean's gun out of his hand.

"Sam! Sammy, shoot it!" Dean shouted, trying his best to keep the werewolf off of himself. Sam couldn't move, though, he was in such shock. He still hadn't even comprehended what had just happened.

"Sam! Please!" Dean pleaded.

Dean's desperation snapped Sam out of his trance-like state. He raised the gun, his hand shaking convulsively, he closed his eyes and pulled the trigger. The werewolf cried in pain, having been shot in the leg.

"Sammy, shoot it again, in the heart!" Dean shouted, as the werewolf regained some strength and got angrier, going for Dean again.

Sam aimed the gun and fired, silencing the werewolf for good. Sam stared at its body as it turned into that of a young boy. The boy was only a few years older than Sam, it looked like.

Dean picked up his own gun and limped over to his brother, thick scratches visibly on his leg. "Good job, Sammy. You got it," Dean congratulated him, patting him on the back.

Sam didn't answer though, he just kept staring at the immobile body of the teenage boy in front of him. "Dean…How- how can you say that? Look, he's only about your age!" Sam exclaimed.

Dean looked over at the body, and Sam saw a flash of hurt pass through his eyes quickly. "Look, Sammy, there was nothing else we could do. He would've killed both of us, and many others if we hadn't stopped him. It was for the best."

Immediately Sam and Dean heard frantic running coming towards them, and they soon saw the outline of their father in the darkness.

"Are you boys alright? I heard screaming, and the gunshots, and-" John spotted the body of the boy, "You got him?" he asked.

"Yeah, he attacked Sam, and then went to get me, but Sam shot him," Dean responded, leaving out, Sam noted, that the werewolf had actually attacked him.

"Really, Sammy? That's great. Good job. You really are a Winchester," John said, smiling, ruffling his youngest's hair.

Sam couldn't believe his ears. His father was hardly excited when he came home with straight A's in school, yet when he killed someone, he was congratulated? Sam sat in silence for the rest of the night as they packed up their things and went back to the hotel, patching his arm and Dean's leg up. He still couldn't believe that he had just shot and killed a person, a thought that would guiltily lay in his conscious for the rest of his life.

In the present day, a 22-year-old Sam Winchester woke from his nightmare of the events that had taken place that night ten years ago. He had never forgiven himself for shooting that boy in the woods that day, even though he had tried to convince himself it was only in a defensive purpose to save Dean. And, though they didn't know it, and had probably never given any thought to it, he had never really forgiven his brother or father for having _congratulated_ him on such an event. In his mind, he had murdered someone, and that guilt followed him for the rest of his life.

In the driver's seat next to him, his older brother turned to him, "Hey, another nightmare about Jess?"

"No, this one was something different. But just as bad," Sam confided.

Dean didn't look at all pleased by this response, "You want to talk about it?"

Sam thought about it for a moment, wondering if he should get it out of his system, just tell someone about the absolute guilt that had plagued him. But then he thought of the grudge he still held against Dean for that night, and decided what was best to be done.

"No, not really."

**Author's Note: First of all, thank you so, SO much to everyone who reviewed! It was truly the best Thanksgiving ever because of you guys, because I so didn't expect anyone to even read the story, let alone be so kind as to leave a review! So thank you so much! Also, this chapter is more of a filler for the story, but also a bit important in events. I have an alternate version of this chapter in which (DON'T READ UNTIL FINISHED READING CHAPTER! AND IF YOU WANT TO READ ALTERNATE CHAPTER, THIS IS A SPOILER) Sam brings along a tranquilizer and finds the werewolf before Dean and John and gets the werewolf, and tells Dean or John that he killed it, but they later discover the same werewolf killing people and get angry with him. This chapter sort of adds, though, that Sam really doesn't want this life, so I chose to use this one because I felt it had more importance. Anyways if you want to read the alternate chapter just message me, and I can post it or give it to you. I'll stop blabbering now**


	4. 2001 Leaving

Chapter Four: Leaving 

_2001_

"Hey, Dad, I really need to talk to you," an 18-year-old Sam Winchester asked his father.

"Not now, son. Whatever it is can wait until we exorcize this spirit from the house. We're actually being _paid _to do this one, Sammy, we're not going to freaking screw it up," John answered, not at all pleased to be interrupted while he was working.

"But Dad, this is really-"

"Jesus, Sam, I said _not now_!"

Sam knew that his father meant business, so he finally backed off, but not before muttering, "If it were Dean you'd listen without hesitation…", and walking away from the situation.

John Winchester sighed, knowing full well that though his youngest may have not said that too loudly, he had meant for him to hear it. It had been this way for a long time, Sam's jealousy towards his older brother. And from the jealousy had come resentment and stubbornness to his father. Though he hated to admit it, John thought that the same stubbornness had come from him.

The truth was, though it may not have always seemed like it, John loved both his children equally. But Dean was just so much easier to get along with, not talking back or insulting him every second of the day. And he was a soldier, knew how to fight and he put his all into it. Sam knew how to fight properly as well, but his heart wasn't into it like it should be. He was always more interested in reading a book than taking down evil spirits. Though he may have John's stubbornness, everything else he had gotten from Mary. John missed her so much, and having his son be like a living memory of her, he could hardly stand it.

"Hey, Dean, come here a second," John called over his 22-year-old who had been picking out some choice weapons from the trunk of the car. "Dean, go talk to your brother, see what's up with him."

"Okay, I'll go talk," Dean said skeptically, having no idea why specifically his father wanted him to talk to his little brother, or what he was supposed to be talking about with him. But he wouldn't disobey his Dad's orders. Even at 22, he still completely respected his father, and even had the slightest bit of fear towards him.

"Hey, Sammy. Teen angst getting you down?" he found Sam sitting on the bed of their cheap motel room of the month.

"So Dad sent you to do his dirty work for him, huh? Typical," Sam scoffed.

"Uh, no, in fact I was just being a good older brother. But, you know, if you can't appreciate that…" Dean felt slightly guilty lying to Sam, but it had the desired affect as he saw the even guiltier look cross Sam's face.

"Sorry, I'm still pretty mad at Dad."

"Why?"

"I've just been trying to tell him something really important for the past couple of weeks…When I finally got enough courage to even _think _about telling him, that is."

"What did you want to tell him?"

Sam stayed silent for a couple of seconds, arguing with himself whether to tell his brother or not. He reached into his pocket, grasping for the worn out piece of paper folded inside. He wasn't sure how Dean would react to the news, he had been so worried about telling his father that he hadn't really even thought about Dean's reaction.

Sam finally took the paper out of his pocket and unfolded it.

"What's that, Sammy?" Dean asked nervously, having a fairly good idea what it was, judging by the big logo on the upper left corner.

"It's a letter from Stanford University. You remember how I turned them down last year because Dad said there was no way I was going? Well, I'm tired of waiting. They're still willing to give me a full scholarship, and I accepted," Sam explained, never once looking his brother in the eye, because he knew what he'd see.

Dean had taken an actual bullet a few years back, but even that blow hadn't been as big as this one. "You _accepted_? Are you shitting me, Sam! I mean- Jesus, you didn't even tell us that they had freaking _been in touch _with you!"

"If I had told you guys, what would you honestly have said? You wouldn't have let me go!" Sam said angrily.

"Damn right we wouldn't have let you go! You have priorities to this family, Sam! And, I mean, we're so close to finding out what happened to Mom! You're going to through that all away?" Dean shouted back.

"The hell we are! Dean, we're no closer to finding out what happened to Mom than we were eighteen years ago, when it freaking happened!" At the look of hurt on his brother's face, he tried to calm himself down, "Look, its not like I'm abandoning you guys. I'm just going to college! I can come along on hunting trips with you on breaks and even some weekends, if they're near Stanford-"

"Cut the bull, Sam. You're doing this 'cause you hate the hunting lifestyle. You say that you'll be able to help us with hunting trips, but when the time comes to help, you're going to make up some half-ass excuse to get out of it anyways"

"That's not true at all! Dean-"

"Look, Sammy, I've got to get back to helping Dad. I don't want to talk about this anymore. Only thing I can say is good luck telling Dad," Dean said as he turned his back on his brother. Truth was that Dean couldn't even stand looking at his brother right now. After eighteen years of comforting Sam after a nightmare, wrestling with him when they were kids, saving his ass when any creature came at him and he wasn't prepared, and even defending him in fights with Dad- Sam had stomped all over that hard work with that one single letter.

Sam just sat there as his older sibling slammed the door to the room. He laid down on the bed, quickly realizing how uncomfortable it was. He stood up and put the letter back into his pocket, and headed outside to help his family with their latest 'job'.

A week later, they were back in Kansas, and Sam still hadn't told his father. After Dean's reaction, which was still impending as his older brother refused to talk to him unless entirely necessary, he wasn't even sure he wanted to tell his Dad anymore. He began coming up with secret escape plans, possibly climbing out of the house in the middle of the night, and taking a cab to the airport, where he could be in California within a couple of hours. He already had a suitcase packed and everything, though he didn't exactly have too much to pack. But at least he was ready to go at any time.

His thoughts were interrupted by a knock at the door. "Who is it?" Sam asked.

"Sam, we need to talk. Dean told me about the letter," his father's voice answered. _Shit, I didn't think Dean would actually _tell_ him_ Sam thought before telling his Dad to come in.

"Look, Dad-"

"There's no need for a big conversation, Sam. You're not going and that's final," John told him before making his way out the door, leaving a shocked son behind in the room.

"No, it's not over!" Sam shouted at his father, causing him to turn around to look up to his much taller son, "I'm eighteen, Dad, which means I am legally able to make my own decisions now. I already accepted the scholarship, I'm going."

"Goddammit, Sam! How many times are we going to have this conversation! You owe your allegiance to your family, that's what comes first! If you go to college, you're turning your back on your brother and I!"

"I 'owe my allegiance'! Dad, do you freaking hear yourself? You're not in the marines anymore, you're not talking to a soldier. You're talking to your _son_, do you even understand that! Oh, and by the way, if you talked to Dean thoroughly enough about this, you would realize that we had the exact same conversation. I'm not _leaving _you guys, I'm just going to college! I'm going to come back and help you guys, I'm not leaving you!" Sam stopped before saying, "Look, I don't get to have a normal life, I get that now. But, please, just let me have this. Please, Dad."

John Winchester could hardly stand the pleading look in his son's eyes, but he couldn't give in. Sam was right about one thing, and that was that he was still as tough as he ever was in the marines.

Downstairs, Dean sat at the kitchen table, his head in his hands, listening to the shouting match going on upstairs. He had had to tell his father about Sam, he was getting desperate, he just couldn't let his younger brother go to Stanford, Dean needed him too much. He hoped that their father would be able to finally knock some sense into him.

Dean looked up at the sound of someone quickly coming down the stairs. He soon made out the figure of Sam, a suitcase in hand, looking angry as hell. He didn't even glance at Dean as he made his way to the front door.

"Sam, what the hell are you doing!" Dean yelled, catching him before he opened the door.

"I'm leaving, Dean. I don't care if I have either of your consent or not, I'm going to Stanford. Just call me if you need me, and I'll come back at breaks, I swear," Sam told him. He was angrier at his father than he had ever been in his life, but he didn't want to leave on a bad note with Dean, the brother who had spent his life protecting him.

But their goodbye in the making was interrupted by a voice from a couple feet behind them, as their father said, "No, Sam. If you leave this house, you're never coming back."

Dean couldn't believe his ears. "But, Dad-"

"Stay out of it, Dean!" John yelled at his son.

Sam looked crestfallen at his words, but proceeded to open the door, stepping outside. "I'm sorry," he said looking back at Dean, and closed the door.

**A/N: Hey, so here is the long awaited chapter that I have been procrastinating for quite awhile…Lol, okay just a quick couple of notes. First off, this chapter took me FOREVER to write because, as I've said, I got writer's block. And so I would go away from the computer after writing a couple of paragraphs, and then come back later to continue. So if for some reason it doesn't make sense, that's why. Anyways, I know Sam may not have gone to college at 18, but it seemed that at 22 he was a senior in college, and I'm guessing he went a year later than most, so that's where I came up with that he was 18 when he went to college. Also, I know that there was no present day reminisces in this one, but that is because I was actually planning on writing the next chapter on that, because there must be a lot of anger Dean feels towards Sam, and I'm sure Sam still feels pretty bad for leaving. So I thought that'd make for an interesting chapter, plus that would have been quite a few pages long, so this would be an ultra long chapter, and I'm very lazy. Lol, anyways, I hope you like this chapter!**


	5. 2002 Just Can't Leave Well Enough Alone

Chapter Five: Can't Just Leave Well Enough Alone 

_2002_

**Disclaimer: No, I do not own _Supernatural_, or sadly Dean and Sam Winchester (or John Winchester but, no offence, I'm not so disappointed by this one). I sadly don't even own Starbucks, which is mentioned briefly in this chapter. Dean, Sam and Starbucks…All I want for Christmas  **

"Hey, Dad, look sorry for leaving with no notice but I found a gig in Washington, that was pretty urgent so I had to leave as soon as possible, which just happened to be in the middle of the night. It's just a poltergeist, though, really pissing some woman off, so you don't need to come down or anything. Ok, anyways, just wanted to tell you. Bye," Dean finished leaving the message on his father's cell as he saw the big green sign reading 'Stanford University- 15 miles'.

"Jesus, must be some really classy school if it's pretty much considered a landmark," Dean joked to himself.

He was really just trying to calm himself down, though, for two reasons. One, if he had a bad feeling that his father may look into that lie about a gig in Washington and assume where he was actually going; he knew Dean well enough that he usually didn't just leave in the middle of the night. _That was Sam's job _Dean thought angrily to himself. That was the second reason he was so worried.

He had no idea what he was going to say to Sam. He was still so pissed off at him for leaving, and just as jealous that he got to get away. The past year had been especially tough; Dean and his father had never noticed just how helpful Sam had been on hunts until he left. He hated to admit it, but he really missed his little brother. Though if Dean ever even _mentioned _Sam in front of their Dad, John Winchester would absolutely snap. But Dean knew that John was just afraid for Sam, also knowing full well that he had checked up on him more than once, though never bringing Dean along as he didn't want him to know about these little detours.

This was all way too much for Dean to process at the moment, so he just blasted his Metallica tape and sped down the road to Stanford.

_God, she's beautiful _Sam thought to himself as he stared at the smiling blonde across the room. Her name was Jessica Moore and it had been love at first sight the moment he saw her on his first day at Stanford. Sadly, she, as many beautiful women are, was taken. Her boyfriend's name was Jack Ellis; he was a star player on the football team, and a really smart guy. And he was just an all-around nice guy-, which made Sam hate him even more.

"Sam, Earth to Sam!" his best friend at the university, Zach waved his hand in front of Sam's blanked out face. "You do realize class is about to start, don't you?"  
"What? Oh, yeah, right," Sam responded, coming off Cloud 9. But he still never took his eyes of Jessica.

"Man, you know she is _way_ out of your league, don't you?" Zach said, following Sam's gaze to the source.

"Yeah, yeah I know. But its nice to dream," Sam did know he had no chance, and any hint of one was completely stomped over as Jack sat down next to Jess, whose smile widened at the sight of him, and stayed plastered to her face as she gave him a kiss hello. A wave of anger passed through Sam's body, and he suddenly noticed he had snapped the pencil in his hand.

"Whoa, there, buddy. Calm down. God you really must have it bad for that girl," Zach said as he handed Sam an extra pencil.

"Yeah, I guess so," Sam responded as the professor walked into the room and class began.

"Holy _shit_!" Dean said to himself as he looked around the campus of Stanford University. It was _huge_, much bigger than Dean could've even imagined. He just couldn't believe that Sam of all people actually went to this school.

He looked quickly at the letter Sam had sent him, naming the address he was staying at. Sam had sent him a couple of letters since his departure, a lot saying 'I'm sorry' or 'It's not you that I'm mad at, Dean'. But after Dean never responded, Sam stopped writing. But his last had given the address and phone number he could be reached at, which was very helpful now.

After arguing with himself whether he should actually go through with it or not, Dean finally decided not to be a coward and knocked on the door to the apartment. After no one answered, he tried the doorknob, which was strangely unlocked. _Sam definitely must not be living alone, because if he were he'd know better than this. _And Dean was right about that as he walked into the currently abandoned, but messy as ever apartment. There were a couple of rooms, all in different states suggesting that different people lived in each. Dean went into the cleanest room first, and his hunch that it belonged to Sam was right. The walls were pretty much barren, and there really wasn't that much to the room but a bed, a desk with loads of textbooks and papers, and a dresser and mirror. Dean knew that there wasn't much for Sam to take with him anyways, but felt bad all the same as he saw that all of Sam's roommates had many pictures and awards and certificates strung across their walls. As Dean was taking in his brother's room, he heard the front door open and two voices carrying on a conversation.

"I just can't believe the year's almost over…I mean, we're going to be sophomores here next year, I can't wait!" the first voice said.

Hearing the next voice felt like a blow to the chest as Dean heard the familiarity of his younger brother, "Yeah, I haven't really thought about it that much. I've mostly been focusing on the finals…"

"Jesus, you are so uptight! I mean, you actually came to this school to _learn_, didn't you!"

At this Dean heard his brother laugh and respond, "Well, unlike you, I had to work my ass off to get a scholarship to even get into the school."

"Point taken," Sam's friend responded.

Dean felt it was about time he showed himself, as he knew that if he didn't soon, he would completely chicken out on even confronting Sam. Slowly, Dean stepped out of Sam's room into the main living room of the apartment where Sam and his friend were.

"Hey there, little brother," Dean tried to cover up his nervousness with a cocky voice. His brother, whose back had been to Dean, turned around and just stared, his eyes widening.

Sam's friend had a fairly similar reaction, but for different reasons. Thinking that Dean was a burglar, his friend ran towards the phone to dial 911, but Sam stopped him. "Wait, Zach, he isn't a burglar. This is Dean," Sam said to his friend. His words tried to reassure himself as well. _Is Dean _really _here? _Sam thought to himself.

"Wait, your older brother Dean? The one you haven't-" Zach started.

"Yeah, this is him," Sam cut him off.

"Well, sounds like you've been telling your friends about me. I'm flattered, really, Sammy," Dean said sarcastically, only imagining what his brother had said about him to his friends, what with the great terms they left off on and all.

Sam didn't really seem to know what to say. He was in such shock that Dean was there. After the way they had left things, and then Dean failing to respond to a single one of his letters…Sam had begun to worry that they'd never see each other again. Finally, Sam turned to Zach and asked, "Hey, do you mind if I talk to my brother in private?"

"Yeah, sure, man. I'll leave you guys alone," Zach said, making his way to the door.

"Thanks, Zach," Sam said, if only to just have something to say. He turned to his older brother who looked equally awkward.

"So…do you have any beers?" Dean finally asked.

"I'm 19," Sam responded.

Dean actually laughed at the familiarity of his little brother. "Sam, you really are a loser." Sam smirked, but was still in too much shock to really find any humor in his brother's jokes.

"Dean…what are you _doing _here?" then Sam thought of an even better question, one he thought he knew the answer to, "Does Dad know you're here?"  
Dean really didn't know how to respond, except with, "Well, look; first off, no, Dad does not know I'm here," as he spotted the monotone look on Sam's face he finished, "but I guess you already knew that. And second, we really need to talk."

"You really couldn't have just responded to one of my letters?" Sam enquired.

"This is more of a face-to-face talk. And I can't say I was really in the mood to answer your little letters for awhile," Dean told him, pleased by the slightly guilty look on Sam's face. "Look, okay, truth is Dad and I need your help."

"_Dad_ needs my help? He doesn't even know you're here! And if he did know, he sure wouldn't want you to be asking me for help. If there's one thing I know about John Winchester, it's that he doesn't accept any kind of help from anyone. Especially his youngest son who he just happens to be in a fight with right now."

"Sam, I don't freaking care that Dad won't admit it, _I'm _admitting it for him, he and I need your help! I mean, come on, man, you've got to admit we made a great team. Dad and I would fight the little bastard and you'd give us any stuff you read in those books of yours that could help us find its weakness. Without you, we can still do the fighting, but it's just not as easy."

At the unconvinced look on Sam's face, Dean told him, "Sammy, come on, you know that I'm like Dad, and I never ask for help. Do you really think I'd be asking for help if I didn't need it?"

Sam seemed to process this before saying, "So, let me get this straight, you're asking me to leave college -which, by the way, I'm still only in my first year of- and you want me to do this so I can go back to doing something I absolutely hate, am I right?"

Dean couldn't believe his ears. Sam may not have said it in so few words, but Dean knew that that last statement was pretty much his refusal to help, to come back to Kansas with him- and continue the 'family business'.

Dean was about to respond when a very preppy looking blonde haired man entered the room with two cups of what appeared to be Starbucks coffee. "Hey Sam, just came back from the worst exam of my life! And though you didn't have to endure that pain, I felt the need to be nice and get you a mocha frappucino, that's what you like, right?" The preppy looking man, who appeared to be Sam's roommate, handed Sam the cup, not even noticing Dean sitting on the couch.

"Okay, mocha frappucino?" Dean snapped at his brother, immediately turning the preppy roommate's attention to Dean, but Dean ignored the roommate's confused looks as he continued, "You know what, Sam? I guess I made a mistake, you really have changed. Have a nice life." And with that Dean walked out the door, but Sam wouldn't let him get away that easily.

"Dean, _Dean!_" Sam yelled as Dean's pace quickened, trying to get back to his car as quickly as possible. But Sam ran, and eventually caught up with him, making him stop.

"Dean…" Sam stopped as he caught his breath, when he finally was able to talk he said, "Look, it's a Friday, I can come back with you now."

"But then you're going to have to come back here on Monday, right Sam?" Dean responded, disappointment dripping from his words.

"Well, yeah, I mean I have classes. But summer's soon, and after finals I can come right back home-"

"And again, Sammy, you're going to have to eventually leave. When I said we needed you, I meant the full deal, we need you home for good. Not for a couple of days here and there," Dean told him.

"Dean, a couple days here and there is the best I can give you," Sam muttered, feeling sick to his stomach as he said the words. "But, after I finish the four years, I can come home for good!"

Dean actually laughed at this, though humor was not the reason behind it. "Four years, Sam? Are you kidding? By then, Dad or I- hell, both of us maybe –could be _dead_. And all because you need your little normal life diversion." Sam looked like Dean had socked him, which actually made Dean feel really good. "Well, I hope you have a fun time with your life, because if you're going to have that apple pie life, I don't think you're going to want Dad or I in it. Bye, Sammy," Dean said as he walked away, and this time Sam didn't stop him.

As Sam walked back into his apartment, he honestly had never felt worse in his life. He lay down on the coach, and covered his head with a pillow, something he used to do when he was a little kid and he just wanted the whole world to disappear.

But sadly this was not an option for Sam as his roommate who had witnessed the fight, Aaron, came and sat down on the opposing coach which minutes ago Dean had been sitting on.

"Hey, man, I'm sorry," Aaron said, "For interrupting, as well as for the break up. It seemed pretty bad. It was a bit surprising for me, really, I didn't know you were gay!" Aaron finished, going from comforting to his trademark dumbness.

But Sam didn't even respond to him as he made his way into his room, locking the door behind him and actually falling asleep, wanting to forget the whole, awful day had happened.

Four years later, a 26-year-old Dean sat with his 23-year-old brother looking over newspapers in their dingy motel room, trying to find a new case they could look into. While Dean looked over the newspaper clippings intently, Sam just stared at them blankly; thinking back on that fight he and his brother had just those few years ago. Sam didn't know what exactly had brought on that specific memory, and he was very surprised to hear himself say, "Hey, Dean? You remember that time when I was in my first year of college and you came and visited me?"

Dean looked quite taken aback by this question; he even had the slightest look of sickness at the mere memory of it. "What the hell made you bring that up?" he asked.

"I- actually, I have no idea. I was just thinking about it," Sam responded honestly.

"Well, okay then," Dean said, getting over the initial shock of his brother's randomness, "Yeah, I remember it. What about it?"

At this point Sam was really regretting his choice to bring up this reminiscence. But he figured that he must've been thinking of it for a reason in that messed up head of his, so he said, "Did you really come just because you and Dad needed my help?"

Just when he thought he had been shocked enough for one night, Sam delivered another blow. Dean's first reaction was to lie his ass off to his younger brother, but then something made him rethink that decision, "You want the truth, Sam?" At the nod of Sam's head, Dean continued, "Yeah, that is the reason I came." He paused as he saw the look of contempt on Sam's face and then finished, "But it's not the only reason. Look, we really did need your help, I'm not going to deny that. But I also remembered that, on the night you left, I never actually got around to congratulating you."

"You didn't congratulate me when you came to visit, either," Sam reminded him.

"Yeah, well, you didn't exactly give me the chance to. Look, I was pissed off as hell that you left. I mean, in my mind you were abandoning the family-" Sam looked like he was about to argue but Dean stopped him by saying, "I figured out that you weren't. And I was going to tell you that, but I just never got the chance. When I saw you and your new college-boy lifestyle, and preppy friends, and your _stupid _Starbucks coffee, all my anger from back then just came back, and I guess I sort of snapped."

There was an awkward silence between the two brothers until Sam said, "Well, if it makes you feel any better, you really made me feel completely guilty about myself when you left. I couldn't even defend myself when Aaron- the preppy guy with the coffee –thought I was gay, and that fight with you had been a break up." Sam smirked in spite of the tense moment, and Dean even laughed a little.

"Well, I feel the need to end this little tear-jerker moment before I feel the urge to hug you, or something," Dean joked.

"Yeah, subject dropped, I promise," Sam said, laughing.

They had gone back to researching for a couple more minutes before Dean suddenly broke the silence, "Wait, just before we forget about this completely, he thought we were _gay_! The man with the pink shirt thought _I _was gay?"

Sam laughed as he said, "Well, let's just say that Aaron got in with money, not brains." And Dean, though still looking disgusted, finally went back to looking for their next case.

**A/N: Hey, okay, let me just start with the usual by saying, again, thanks _so much _to everyone who has reviewed! I love you guys with all my heart! XOXO to all of you! And also, personally, I didn't love this chapter too much. I'm not sure what everyone else thinks, but I just didn't think it was the strongest; though it may've been the best I could do with the plotline I was planning for it. But I didn't dislike it until I had finished writing 5 pages of it, and no offence but I am too lazy to redo that, even for you guys, lol. So please go easy on me, I know its not the best, but I did try, believe it or not. Also, I've rewritten a lot of the dates as I got a lot of complaints saying they weren't right. I didn't change Sam to being nine when he got the .45, because I just did that for what I felt was best for my story, but I did change the years because I found out Sam is 23 in the pilot, not the age of 22 that I thought as I wrote this whole story. So hopefully that should be right now, and thanks so much everyone for telling me how stupid I am. Ok, well I was going to write something else but I don't remember, so more later**


	6. 2004 Comforting Thoughts

**Chapter 6: Comforting Thoughts**

_2004_

Dean sped down the highway, blasting his Metallica tape, nothing ahead of him but clear roads in the dark night. His former relief for having even been able to convince his father to let him go on the trip was gone, now completely consumed by nervousness. Dean rarely got scared of anything, or at least never let it show, but somehow going on a gig without anyone, especially his father, gave him a sick feeling in his stomach. _Why the hell are you nervous? _He thought to himself. _Besides, there's no turning back now. You're the one who fought to go on this trip, and you're not going to go back to Dad, he'll think you're a wimp. _Dean thought back to the day before, when he had had the conversation with his father…

"Dad, look at this," Dean called his father over, folding the newspaper to the specific section he was looking at. "This definitely sounds like our kind of thing; Local kids of Texas are 'scared to death'. It sounds like one of the kids- a teenage girl –got split up from her friends on a camping trip, and ran into a bunch of snakes. When her friends found her, she was dead, surrounded by snakes, yet she hadn't been bitten or anything. And on her face was a 'look of pure terror'. According to this article, it's the fourth case like this in the past 6 months."

"That definitely sounds like something, but it'll have to wait," John explained to his son. "There's another gig down in Florida. A woman called, apparently her home is being haunted by a poltergeist, and it's getting more and more dangerous. After that we can go check out the Texas thing."

"Or we can split up," it was a simple suggestion by Dean, but it definitely sparked some fear into the eldest Winchester's eyes.

"No! Dean, the Texas gig _can wait_," John answered, not meaning to sound as harsh as he had. The truth was, John couldn't bear to lose Dean. What with Sam gone, and Mary dead, Dean was all John had left. And he couldn't bear to lose him.

"Dad, you do realize I'm _25 _don't you? I can handle this on my own," Dean told him.

John racked his brain for a decent excuse to get Dean to just go along to Florida, because Dean was right about one thing- he was definitely old enough to do this, and _definitely _had enough skills and power as well. _Hell, _John thought, _he had enough skills and power to do this at thirteen_.

When John honestly couldn't think of a half-decent reason, he said, "Well….we only have one car!" _Jesus, man, that was terrible _he thought to himself.

"So? You take a plane or something. Yours is further away, I can get there by car in the next day. It'd take you much longer by car," Dean retorted.

John knew that Dean wasn't going to back down on this one, and he really wasn't in the mood to argue anymore. "Fine, Dean, just go. The car has all the weapons you'll need," John explained in exasperation. "Anyways, just tell me when you're leaving…" he said, heading to his bedroom to turn in for the night.

"Actually," John stopped in his tracks as he heard his eldest son drop a small bag on the kitchen table, "I was going to leave now." Dean explained.

John gave the bag a glance, realizing that it was full of any kind of provisions Dean would need. Obviously Dean had been full ready to leave; probably asking John for his permission was just an afterthought of his.

John sighed as he said, "Okay…well, just call and check in every once in awhile- on my cell." As Dean headed for the door, John said what he'd really meant to, "Dean- be careful, alright?"

Dean looked surprised by his father's momentary lapse of vulnerability, but shook his head and proceeded out the door.

"I love you."

"I love you too, Sam."

Sam couldn't remember a time in his life where he had ever been as happy as he was at that moment. It was his and Jess' one-year anniversary, and he had made reservations at a really romantic restaurant, but they skipped it for a simple picnic in a park near Stanford. Sam honestly couldn't believe he had only been going out with her for a year, it felt like he'd been with her his whole life, cheesy as it sounded.

He still remembered the day he first asked her out; he had heard about a month earlier that Jess and her previous boyfriend, Jack, had broken up, but Sam wasn't the type of guy to just swoop in and take a girl when she was vulnerable. Well, that's what Sam said was the excuse for it taking him so long to ask her out- the sad truth was he was just too damned nervous. And when he finally asked her, he expected her to turn him down flat. But she hadn't.

And now he was here today, and he was deliriously in love with her. _This would've made Dean sick_ the thought entered Sam's mind before he knew what had hit him. Why the hell was he thinking about how _Dean _would feel? He hadn't really given a thought towards Dean, awful as it made Sam feel, since he had last seen him, almost two years ago. Now that he actually got to thinking about that day, he started feeling sick.

Jess must have noticed the change in his expression as she asked, "Hey, baby, you alright?"

"Yeah…yeah, I'm really sorry Jess. I was just thinking about something," he explained. He shook his head, trying to get any thoughts of Dean out of his head. _Get it together, you idiot! You have your beautiful girlfriend right in front of you, and all you can think about is your guilt over snapping at your brother!_

Though Sam tried to act as though everything was fine, Jess knew him well enough to realize otherwise, and wouldn't let the subject drop, "Sam, you're not alright. What were you thinking about?"

Sam looked into her eyes and saw the seriousness in them, and knew she was asking because she was worried for him. He leaned in and kissed her briefly on the lips, before pulling away and saying, "Really, Jess, its nothing. You don't need to worry about anything."

She looked skeptical, but let him go with that, and leaned into him as he kissed her forehead. Any thoughts of Dean floated into the back of his mind- that was his old life. He was here with Jess in his new one, and he was the happiest he was ever going to get. The last thing he needed was remains of his old life tinting this perfect one.

Dean pulled into the parking lot of "Sleepy Joe's Motel" and parked the Impala, heading inside to book a room for the night. After using his fake credit card to get it, he walked into the room, not surprised by the crappiness of it.

He set down his bag and immediately a feeling of loneliness came over him. But he tried to brush it aside, and took out his laptop to look up more of the case he was pursuing. It was pretty easy for Dean to figure out that the creature scaring everyone to death was a demon of fear. When he researched more on the articles, especially the most recent death with the girl and the snakes, he soon found through quotes from family and friends that her worst fear was snakes.

The nervousness that Dean had previously felt was beginning to dim down. _This was going to be easy_. Dean knew that you saw the demon of fear right before you- well, before it scares you to death. So all Dean had to do was face down his worst fear, kill the demon, and bada-bing-bada-boom, no more fear demon terrorizing the town. And Dean definitely had an edge, knowing what his worst fear was: planes. But the real edge was that when Dean faced down his worst fear, he would know it was all just an illusion- sadly unlike the other victims of the demon.

Dean glanced at his watch and saw how late it was- midnight. Realizing the time, he soon became incredibly tired, and lay down on the cheap bed, falling asleep within seconds.

The next morning, Dean drove up to the nearest airport, knowing what he had to do. He was freaked as hell about getting on a plane –even though he had picked the shortest flight available, as it was only going about an hour's distance. He also knew that it was all going to be an illusion, whatever happened on the plane, but that didn't make him feel any better. _I wish Dad were here _Dean thought as he stepped onto the plane, feeling nauseous as hell.

An hour later, Dean stepped off the plane in shock, and not because of anything that had happened. In fact, he was shocked by the _lack _of what had happened. Nothing remotely scary went down on that plane, and Dean wasn't sure whether to be relieved or not.

As he drove to the cheapest motel he could find, he thought about all the possibilities of why nothing had happened. And the one that kept coming back to him haunted him the most. _What if planes aren't my _worst _fear? _If this were the case, Dean really had no idea what his worst fear was, and that scared him more than anything. Now the demon could get him at any time, and he'd be completely vulnerable, not actually knowing what his worst fear was.

"How the hell are planes not my worst fear?" he asked himself, completely baffled.

He quickly got the room at the motel, and walked into the room, deep in thought. He was so absorbed in what was going on in his mind that he didn't notice the blood dripping down onto the bed…

When he finally noticed the soft 'patter-patter' of the blood dripping onto the sheets, he turned to wear said noise was coming from, and looked up onto the ceiling- to see Sam.

Dean's breath caught in his throat as he saw the slash across his brother's stomach, and Sam's mouth moving, with no noise coming out- he was still alive.

"Sam! Sammy!" Dean yelled as he hopped onto the bed, trying to save his brother.

But just as soon as Dean got close enough to getting his brother, he felt a flash of heat erupt from the ceiling, and was knocked back by the force of the fire emitting from his brother's body.

But Dean wouldn't give up, still trying to reach for his baby brother, though the flames still licked at his face. "Sammy! SAMMY!" Dean screamed as an invisible force knocked him onto the ground again, and he could do nothing but watch as his brother burned alive on the ceiling.

"SAMMY! NO!" Dean woke in a cold sweat two years later, in a dark motel room. He looked around at his surroundings, and came to terms with the fact that it was just a nightmare. As that fact settled on him, he tried to catch his breath when suddenly the light snapped on, and Dean turned to see the face of his worried younger brother.

"Dean, you alright?" he asked.

"Yeah…yeah, just a nightmare, I guess," Dean explained, finally getting some normalcy back into his breathing. The truth was that Dean knew that it wasn't just a nightmare, it was his past coming back to haunt him. That night when he saw his brother's burning body –his worst fear- he honestly almost died. In fact, if it hadn't been for his father saving him at the last minute (count on it for his father to realize the whole time that he was going to fail, and somehow figure out his location) he probably would've died of fear. He couldn't go up against the demon again, and it was his father who eventually had to destroy it. Dean was so embarrassed by the situation, that he actually refused to go on a hunt by himself for another couple of his months, despite the eagerness he used to have to do so.

Dean really had never thought that his worst fear had been losing Sammy, but when the fear demon made him realize it was, it all made perfect sense to Dean. He didn't know what he would do if he lost Sammy. Which made it so scary to be hunting with him again. _What if something happens to him? _Was a common thought that went through Dean's head every time they found a new gig. But Dean knew he would _never _let anything touch Sammy, not if he had to die to protect him. Dean was interrupted from his thoughtful state as Sam, though still concerned with Dean's nightmare, turned off the light, and turned on his side, trying to find sleep again.

_Don't worry, Sammy, I'll never let anything happen to you…_Dean thought as he closed his eyes, wishing for a dreamless sleep.

**A/N: Wow, this one took a LONG time to get out there, now didn't it? Ok, I know you guys after reading this chapter probably think I'm a God-awful writer after the latest two chapters (or the whole story, depending on your thoughts) and that I know nothing about the show as Dean probably seemed very out of character in this one. And I'm very sorry for all that, and I just want to thank everyone for putting up with me. All you reviewers out there have really been too kind to me, and you honestly will never know how much I appreciate it. Even if you do hate this story, and think its awful, I still want to thank you for even giving it the time of day and reading it, that honestly means more to me than anything. Sorry this makes no sense, lol, anyways xoxoxoxoxo to all of you!**


	7. 2005 Epilouge

**Epilogue: Admittance**

_2005_

**Disclaimer: OBVIOUSLY I do not own _Supernatural _or you would be seeing these kinds of flashbacks on the show! And there are a couple of quotes here from the pilot episode, you should be able to figure out which ones but if there's any big problem or a warning that I'll be sued or something, contact me and I'll point them out or whatever. **

**_THANK YOU!_ I just want to take the time to thank all the reviewers who have taken the time to read this story. I know there are so many out there (most of which are much better than this) and you have no idea how much it means to me to know someone is actually reading my work and- even more wonderful –enjoying it. So thank you so much, I love you all to pieces! Now, on to the last chapter (probably) of this fic:)!**

_Dean, something is starting to happen, I think it's serious. I need to try to figure out what's going on. Be very careful Dean, we're all in danger._

The words replayed themselves over and over in Dean's head. _What the hell could he have figured out that made him just run off like that? _Dean thought to himself. His father was not exactly one to stay put for too long, but just running off like that with no prior warning…That was a little much.

He finally turned off the car ignition as he parked in front of an apartment building right outside of Stanford University. He checked the sheet of paper that had the address written down on it, and sure enough he was at the right place. He sat silently in his car for a couple of minutes before he went to pull the car door open. Before he could, though, a sick feeling entered his stomach, something he didn't feel often. Was it possibly that he was _nervous _about facing his little brother? The one who, up until a couple years ago, had been his confidant and closest thing he'd ever have to a best friend? But he tossed any thoughts of fear aside, chuckling to himself at the thought of any anxiety.

Yet ten minutes passed and he still hadn't made a move to get out of the car. He sank back into his seat. _This is stupid. Just go and freaking talk to him! You don't have to get all buddy-buddy, just act like you would on any other trip…_

But this wasn't any other trip. He needed to ask for help, something Dean never, _never _did. Not to mention who he was asking help from, but Sammy, who had established the kind of life Dean couldn't even dream about anymore. Dean wasn't sure if it was fear or jealousy that kept him from even getting out of the damn car.Dean wanted to think the latter, as he was the guy who could face the creepiest of demons, and not being able to face his baby brother? Yeah, that was just too big a blow to the ego.

After a few contemplations of just driving away, Dean's mind flashed to his father, which seemed to muster up enough strength in him to get out of the car. The streets were nearly deserted at the early morning hour, everyone deep in sleep. Dean couldn't remember the last time he had gotten the opportunity to be able to actually get a full night of sleep. _When this is all over, I'm sleeping for an entire month, _he thought to himself. But it was more of a far off dream than anything, as Dean knew as well as anyone that this whole thing would never be over. One part of Dean wanted to believe once they'd extracted revenge on his mother's killer, they could just give up fighting for good. But the rational part of him knew that they had gotten themselves in too deep, his father and him. Sam had been able to escape- something Dean hated and respected him for.

As Dean approached the door to Sam's apartment, he took a deep breath before looking at all the little places his brother could've hidden a spare key around the doorway. Over the doorway he felt the shape of what he was looking for and took it down. _God, four years off the job and Sammy's already getting lazy and forgetful._

He got in the apartment quietly and all too easily, creeping into a small living room and making his way into a tiny kitchen. Seeing a door that he figured must belong to his brother's bedroom, he headed for it, but was stopped as someone attacked him from behind.

Before he could fight back, a wave of fear struck him- _Am I too late? Has some demon gotten to Sammy! _ Anger spread through his body as he kicked back, trying to take out his attacker. But before long he recognized the features on his attacker's face, and took his fighting stance down a notch, only to be pinned to the floor soon after.

Dean laughed as realization dawned on Sam's face. "Whoa there, tiger," Dean said, wanting to make absolutely sure his brother didn't throw a few more sucker punches at him.

Dean chuckled again as confusion etched into his little brother's face, and Sam asked, "Dean?"

**A/N: I hardly even want to write this, I am ashamed in myself beyond words for how long this has taken me. I hadn't even worked on it until tonight, I wrote this in like two hours because I finally had a free moment (though you probably can't even tell because its so short). Anyways, I'm not sure if this is how I want to end it or not (yeah, I know the last line is a bit random…but from then on you can just watch the pilot to find out what happens). I don't love sequels, but maybe I'll consider one if anyone actually wants it. Other than that, I do definitely want to write more _Supernatural _fanfics…I had one in mind about taking place in the future with either Sam or Dean's daughter (I know someone already tried this but I had a whole different storyline planned out, where it would be Sam's daughter and she lives with her mom but sees him a lot, and he is trying to hide her from all the supernatural stuff, but she gets thrust into it later in life). If that sounds at all interesting, please tell me…lol, I know it probably doesn't, but I would really like to follow up on it anyways. OK, anyway I just want to thank everyone so much again, from the bottom of my heart, for reviewing and just taking the time to read this! It means soooo much to me, and I love you all! Thank you SO MUCH! I can't say it enough!**


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